


Happy Birthday, Host!

by Doctor_Discord



Series: The Ego Manor [123]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adorable, Adorkable, Birthday, Birthday Fluff, Birthday Presents, Cute, Dorks in Love, Emotions, Fluff and Humor, The Host Deserves to be Happy, The Host is a Dork, promise rings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-20 13:43:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21282671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Discord/pseuds/Doctor_Discord
Summary: It's the Host's birthday! Sort of! And what else is more perfect than to end a wonderful day with a soft moment with his beloved doctor?
Relationships: Bim Trimmer/The King of the Squirrels, Darkiplier/Wilford Warfstache, Googleplier/Bingiplier, The Host/Dr. Iplier
Series: The Ego Manor [123]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1166384
Comments: 42
Kudos: 223





	1. Chapter 1

It was the Host’s birthday.

_Sort of…_

Dr. Iplier had asked him a month or so after he’d been ‘accepted’ by the egos (though it was still _months _later when he even remotely began to gain their trust) what day he would like to celebrate his birthday, or if he wanted to keep it as February 6th. His immediate response had been _Hell no_, and, after a brief period of consideration, he’d chosen November 4th. The day the Author ripped his eyes out. The day he began to _change_.

So when the Host woke that morning, it was with a big smile as he pulled Dr. Iplier closer to him, burying his face in his shoulder with a soft sigh, his arms wrapped around his waist. Dr. Iplier hummed, shifting a little, and then his groggy, sleep-rough voice greeted the Host’s ears. “Good morning, Host.” He turned his head to press a kiss to the Host’s cheek, smiling against his skin and burrowing back further against the Host’s chest. “Happy birthday.”

The Host simply let out pleased hum of his own, slipping one hand beneath Dr. Iplier’s shirt to press flat against his stomach. “Thanks. And good morning to the good doctor, as well.” The Host grinned, tightening his grip on Dr. Iplier ever-so-slightly and turning to bury his face in the side of his throat instead, sighing softly again through his nose. “The Host requests that he and Dr. Iplier stay here for a little while longer.”

Dr. Iplier laughed quietly, covering the Host’s hand on his stomach with his own. “You _really _hate getting out of bed, don’t you.”

The Host pouted, splaying his fingers out a bit against Dr. Iplier’s bare skin. “Dr. Iplier is _warm_, and the others are chaotic and loud.” He pressed a sleepy kiss to the side of Dr. Iplier’s throat.

Dr. Iplier snorted. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

The two continued to lay there, the Host tracing patterns onto Dr. Iplier’s skin and pressing light kisses to his shoulder and neck, humming softly under his breath. He could feel the sun warming his skin, gradually waking him while still allowing him to ride out the drowsiness of sleep. Eventually though, he could feel Dr. Iplier growing restless, and admittedly he himself was getting a bit fidgety. So he allowed Dr. Iplier to drag him out of bed by the hand and got ready (pulling on one of his bigger coats, one that’s sleeves folded over his hands a solid six inches), heading out to the kitchen.

“_There _they fucking are!” The Host started at the sound of Bim’s voice, the distinct sound of the oven door closing under his words as the Host was hit in the face with the _mouthwatering _scent of cinnamon and apples. “We’ve been waiting half an hour for you two!”

“Fuck _off_, Bim!” The Host snorted at Silver’s words. “If I remember correctly, you didn’t get out of bed till 9:30 on _your _last birthday.”

The Host didn’t have to see to know Bim was scowling. “Shut up.”

Dark chuckled, his aura curling around the Host’s wrist and tugging him lightly towards his seat. “Come on. Sit down, Host. Let’s enjoy your birthday.”

The second the words left his mouth, everyone in the room seemed to remember themselves and they screeched “_HAPPY BIRHTDAY!_” just as the Host sat down, sending his face promptly into flames and his forehead thumping against the table, arms covering the back of his head. He groaned loudly before they’d even finished, attempting to cut them off, but of course to no avail.

A solid portion of the egos immediately cracked up, including Dr. Iplier as he rubbed the Host’s back. “Aw, you poor, introverted little soul. It’s okay! You can come out again!”

The Host lifted his head sharply, face still bright red and head shrunken into his coat. “The Host hates _everyone_.”

Dr. Iplier snorted. “No you don’t, you love us!”

The Host just grumbled under his breath in response, hiding his face in his hands.

Eric laughed. “It’s okay, Host! If it’s any consolation, we got you something you’re _really _gonna like!”

The Host froze, then dropped his hands, revealing the small smirk that had spread across his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but then something that felt suspiciously like Dark’s aura covered his mouth and Wilford’s voice came shouting down the table. “If you use your Sight to cheat I will _personally _stab you, got that?”

The Host crinkled up his face, but nodded, and Dark withdrew. “The Host would like to make the point that he can’t exactly _control _his visions and it is mostly involuntary.”

As if on cue, his Sight flashed to see Google raising an eyebrow, arms crossed. “It’s the ‘mostly’ we’re hanging on to.”

The Host chuckled, his blush fading a little as he picked at the skin just blow his bandages. He looked up, a little smile on his face, when Bim came around the table, setting down a plate of whatever he was making earlier and what definitely smelled like bacon in front of him. “On that note, here you are. Cinnamon apple cider muffins with bacon.”

The Host _gasped_, mouth falling open. “They’re _muffins?!_” He picked one of them up, sniffing it and nibbling the edge before absolutely _lighting up_ and began peeling away the paper and taking a huge bite, blush returning full-force as he spoke with his mouth full. “_These are amazing!_”

The table laughed again, and Bim patted his shoulder as he walked away again. “Yeah, figured you’d like them. Risked breaking tradition a bit to try them out, and I can see it was a good call.”

The Host swallowed, still beaming. “The Host is _not _complaining.”

Dr. Iplier pressed a kiss to his cheek, hand sliding down to rest on the small of the Host’s back. “You are _unbearably _cute, you know that?” The Host’s blush just darkened as he took another bite, pulling up his coat’s collar.

When breakfast was over (the Host practically consumed an entire tray of muffins on his own), King stood, his chair screeching along the floor. The Host glanced up from where he sat, nibbling on yet another muffin held between his sweater – coat? – paws. “Host, you ready to see your present? It’s in the library.”

The Host’s brow furrowed, tilting his head. “…Okay. The Host has many questions on how this was hidden from him in his _library _of all places, but he will follow.”

The Host swiveled his head to tilt in Dark’s direction as he stood as well. “There _is_ other magic that is stronger than your Sight, Host.”

He scoffed, moving to nibble on his muffin again. “The Host _seriously _doubts that.”

He heard Ed snort. “I am gonna _completely _ruin Dark’s little self-ego boost there and admit that Silver and I moved the thing down there this mornin’ at like 3:00am.”

The Host laughed as his Sight flashed just in time to catch Dark’s expression, a cross between a pout and a scowl. He stood himself, pulling up his sleeve and patting Dark on the shoulder, beginning to head toward the library and hardly noticing when the Jims zoomed passed him to take the lead. “Come on then!”

“You cocky little shit.”

The Host just flashed him a bright grin over his shoulder.

The decent into the library went about as smoothly as one would expect with fourteen people filing down a single narrow staircase, but they all made it there in one piece. The Host was _adamant _about leading the way through the maze, hissing several warnings about touching his books to those who rarely visited (pretty much everyone but Dark and Dr. Iplier) before stalking off, coat whipping behind him as he rounded corners and still nibbling on his muffin.

At last, they reached the center, and the Host immediately began muttering furiously under his breath, suddenly realizing that the others could _see_ and the library was _very _dark. He lit the candle resting on his desk while rummaging around in his desk’s drawers for more, tossing them up in the air and lighting them too as they floated around the eye of the library in a very Hogwarts-esque fashion. He settled in his desk chair, elbow deep in another drawer for more, tongue poking between his teeth and his muffin sitting on the desk surface when he finally heard the others snickering. He attempted to sit up, hissing sharply when his arm banged on the roof of the drawer. “What, what is it? Why are the egos laughing?”

Bing was the one who answered. “You can force your Sight, right dude?”

The Host raised an eyebrow, sitting up straighter. “…Yes.”

Laughter was still _very _evident in the Jims’ voices when they blurted out, “You _might _want to use it.”

The Host’s eyebrow inched further up his forehead, turning back to face his desk slowly. He ran a hand over the wood cautiously, brow furrowing instead when he noticed that it didn’t have the strange glaze it usually did from years of blood and ink sinking into the wood. He glanced up at the others again, tilting his head in the vague direction of where he could feel Dark’s aura before running his hand over it again, finally forcing his Sight to flash as he was asked.

He gasped, hand flying from the wood to cover his mouth. It was a _brand new desk_, a rich chocolate cherry in color and completely absent of any of the stains that _ruined _his old one. It was organized exactly the way he liked, his candle off to the side and a quill resting on a small stack of parchment, and ink well on the opposite side of the candle. After a quick search through his drawers (he knew his bandages were beginning to darken the longer he kept his Sight forced on, and he was _not _about to ruin this thing so immediately), he found them all perfectly organized. Well, most of them, a few already disasters after him sticking his whole arm in to find his other candles.

His head shot up, allowing his Sight to fade while blood began to drip slowly from his bandages. That didn’t stop him from beaming brightly, running a hand across the wood again. “It’s _beautiful!_ Where did the egos _find _it?”

His head tilted towards Reynolds as he began to speak. “It’s handmade, actually. I have a friend who I work construction with, does this type of stuff in his spare time. Asked if he wouldn’t mind a commission. He was happy to do it.”

“Yeah, you know, your old desk was literally _rotting _from all the blood and stuff.” That was King. “I dragged it outside into sunlight and two hours later it was dust. I doubt it would’ve taken much more.”

The Host snorted, still completely fascinated by the feel of the new wood beneath his hands. “The Host is not surprised. Six years of constantly soaking up blood would do that to an object.”

“Yes well, we tried to clean that stain on the floor too.” Bim scoffed. “Actually, _they _did, despite me telling them it wouldn’t work. Bloodstains on stone – _especially _ones left to sit for a while – are _absolutely _not coming out.”

“_Hey! _How do you know so much about that?”

“Wilford, you have seen my studio’s basement.”

“Fair enough.”

The Host chuckled, shaking his head fondly, then tilted it towards Eric. “Um, we-we actually have another one f-for your room, but we didn’t know how to get it in there and switch them out without waking you up or tipping you off, if you want to let us do that later.”

The Host nodded. “That would be wonderful. This is _amazing_, thanks so much, the Host –” He choked, emotions he couldn’t name overwhelming him, and he opted instead to clack his jaw shut and swallowed thickly, splaying his fingers out across the desktop.

He started a bit when someone laid a hand on his shoulder, glancing at whoever it was, as then Dr. Iplier was whispering softly in his ear. “You okay? You’re face just kinda dropped there.”

The Host nodded again. “Yes, the Host is fine.” He smiled. “Just happy.”

He felt Dr. Iplier press a kiss to his forehead, humming softly as he did so. “Good. I’m glad. Now come on, you can marvel your new desk later, I went out and bought all eight Harry Potter movies for a marathon.”

The Host gasped, splitting in a wide grin before grabbing his muffin and bolting out of his chair and back into his maze, sprinting toward the living area. He could hear the others laughing behind him, and he couldn’t help but smile.

For the anniversary of one of the most painful days of his life, it really was nice.


	2. Chapter 2

The Host closed the door to his room with a small sigh, a blissed little smile on his face. He chuckled as Dr. Iplier collapsed onto the bed with an audible creak, face-down judging by his muffled words. “I’m gonna be hearing British accents in my sleep.”

The Host laughed again. “With all the Doctor Who Dr. Iplier watches, the Host would assume that happens anyway.”

“…Shut up.”

The Host sat down on the bed next to him, tangling one hand in Dr. Iplier’s hair. He couldn’t help let out a contented hum, far too happy and pleased with himself (Bim had also made him his own personal batch of cinnamon cookies, and he’d _finally _gotten to sleeve-smack someone when Ed had tried to steal one). During the Harry Potter marathon – which he had _thoroughly _enjoyed – Reynolds and King had come in and switched out his desk for the second new one, this one black. All in all, it was a _very _enjoyable day.

He raised an eyebrow when Dr. Iplier rolled over, sitting upright. He tilted his head when his Sight flashed and he caught Dr. Iplier’s blush beginning to spread across his face. “What’s wrong?”

Dr. Iplier rubbed the back of his neck. “Nothing’s wrong, it’s just um…I-I have a present for you. Now it’s _nothing_ like what you wrote for me, I’m afraid I’m not that big of a romantic, but uh…”

The Host smiled, taking one of Dr. Iplier’s hands and squeezing it. “The Host will appreciate anything Dr. Iplier wishes to give him.”

Dr. Iplier gave a nervous laugh. “I know, but um…j-just hold on.”

Dr. Iplier stood from the bed, and the Host heard his bedroom door open and his beloved’s retreating footsteps reached his ears. A moment later, he heard Dr. Iplier come back, closing the door once more. The Host raised an eyebrow as Dr. Iplier shuffled his feet, not coming any closer. “Doctor…?”

“Can you…hold out your left hand for me?”

A curious expression crossed the Host’s face, and he did as asked, holding out his hand. He jumped a little when Dr. Iplier gently took ahold of his wrist, tracing a few fingers over the scars he knew decorated his hands.

And then Dr. Iplier was slipping what _definitely _felt like a ring on his finger.

A dark red blush slowly lit up the Host’s face, creeping down his neck, and his head shot up to face Dr. Iplier, swallowing hard. Dr. Iplier laughed, his hand that wasn’t holding the Host’s wrist coming up to cup his cheek. “No need to look so scared, Host, I’m not proposing or anything. But um…i-it _is_ a promise ring. I-i-if you want.”

The Host didn’t say anything, just turned to face his hand and rubbing his thumb over the band. His blush darkened, a small squeak escaping him when he felt the words _‘I love you’ _written in Braille across it. He swallowed again, looking back to Dr. Iplier. “…What does it look like?”

Dr. Iplier’s voice was noticeably thicker when he spoke. “I-it’s just simple silver band, no jewels or anything. Except for the Braille, which I think you’ve already noticed.”

The Host gave a strained laugh, continuing to run his thumb over the Braille. He smiled softly, then patted the bed next to him. “Come here.” He laughed a little easier when Dr. Iplier promptly climbed into his lap instead, his hands coming up to hold Dr. Iplier’s waist. One of his hands slid up to cradle the back of Dr. Iplier’s head, and Dr. Iplier allowed him to pull him into a slow, lingering kiss. When they parted, the Host pressed their foreheads together, smiling softly. “The Host loves it. He would not mind marrying Dr. Iplier. _Someday_. The Host doesn’t believe either of them are ready for that quite yet.”

Dr. Iplier gave a breathless laugh, shifting a bit so their noses brushed together as well. “And you could not be _more _correct. I love you with all my heart, but…maybe in a couple more years.”

The Host chuckled, leaning forward to press another lingering kiss to Dr. Iplier’s lips. “Deal.”

Dr. Iplier hummed, turning to bury his face against the Host’s throat, his hands sliding from the Host’s shoulders down his sides. Suddenly he froze, and the Host’s breathing hitched as he jerked back. “What –” He stuck his hands in the Host’s pockets, and the Host ducked his head in a poor attempt to hide his face. “Do you have fucking _muffins _in your pockets?!”

The Host’s blush was plain on the back of his neck. “They are very good and the Host wanted to have them!”

“Host, _what the fuck?!_ You’ve been hoarding muffins in your pocket all day just _because?!_ You could’ve just gone back into the kitchen and grabbed more whenever you wanted!”

The Host pouted. “…The Host was afraid Bim would stop him like he does with his cinnamon cookies or that the others would eat them instead.”

Dr. Iplier barked out a laugh, shaking in the Host’s lap. “Oh my _God_, you are such a dork!”

“The Host isn’t sharing.”

“Ex_cuse_ you, you have twenty muffins in your pockets, you _absolutely _are and I’d like to see you try and _stop _me from stealing some.”

“_Hey! _Dr. Iplier! Leave the Host’s muffins alone!”

Dr. Iplier’s voice was distinctly muffled, laughter evident in it. “_Fuck off!_”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK AT THIS BEAN!!! I LOVE HIM SO MUCH, HELL YEAH!!! MY SON DESERVES TO BE HAPPY TOO!!!  
_Ahem_  
Anyway, Wednesday's story is a break from the stream of birthday fics! A 'Reynolds and Ed' one! It's fun! _For me!_  
See you then!
> 
> Tumblr: doctordiscord123.tumblr.com
> 
> (Oh, and I made those muffins back when I wrote this story around Easter, and they are _Hella_ good, 10/10 would recommend)


End file.
